Dried Persimmon
by Dagdoth Fliesh
Summary: Persimmons are orange colored fruit, but when dried they're called Hoshigaki and turn grey. Hoshigaki are sweet and mushy, so it's ironic the man named after them is neither. KisamexOC. Rework. Rating may change.


Two First Meetings

"Hoshigaki, Kisame, Monster of the Mist. This is a stretch, but come with us now, and it'll be easier on everybody." Our captain, Commander Tamurai, addressed the giant man before us, the red markings on his round oi-nin mask the same as blood.

I could feel my breath echo in my lungs, the sharpness to the cool air and the taste of the evergreen forest on my tongue. This land was nothing like Kirigakure. It was cold, too cold, my toes were icicles inside their wraps and longed for the warmth of shore sands. My heart beat like a war drum, faster and faster until it must have shown through my chest, until I expected someone to comment on the sound it made, fluttering weakly. The small slits in our oi-nin masks were hard to see through, and I'd often wondered how anyone could battle proficiently in them. But we faced Hoshigaki Kisame, the most terrible of the Seven Kiri Swordsmen; our heads would hit the ground before we noticed anything awry.

I only wish I could feel the air on my face one last time.

The black cloaked man laughed, and I could not repress the terrible shudder down my spine, the kind of laugh that would make a smarter ninja run and cower. The bloodlust / battle-lust rolled from him like thunder from clouds, shaking my will into less than soup. "Oh?" Kisame's voice was just as rough, "but that takes the fun away." His discolored hand wrapped around the hilt of Samehada on his back.

Roka, my senpai, who had shockingly grey hair for his age, shifted in agitation next to me, but he didn't make a move; he, like me, was waiting for a signal from Commander Tamurai; one that signaled to attack, to abandon the hunt, or hide and attempt another attack at some later time. Our first attempt had failed for we had thought ourselves laying the trap but instead the monster of Kirigakure had turned the tables. We should have known, should have expected it. We were overconfident, baited and foolish, and now paying for it. Tamurai had no time to signal.

The shark-like man moved in an instant, hurling his heavy sword into the air as if it were a mere baton. His handsigns could not be followed. "Suiton: Bakushui Shouha!"

His body heaved, reminiscent of an over-inflated balloon. The full effect of the jutsu was clear as water spewed forth like a tsunami.

The roar of the first wave swallowed my gasp, the wall of water tearing apart the forest. I'd jumped, bounding as high as chakra could take me, just to the top of the surface. It rocked violent as a storm, and as it settled, debris floated along the top. My Commander Tamurai and Roka-senpai landed besides me upon an uprooted fir. But I could not move my eyes from Hoshigaki, whose leering maw caused me cold sweat. I realized the difference in level between ourselves - - he _was_ a real monster.

'_We won't survive. We must retreat._' My mind screamed, but my body took on calm acceptance as I watched Kisame's sword fall easily back into his hand. None of the arduous hunter's training we'd endured could have readied us for this foe. Had we took him by surprise, our chance of survival in this encounter could have improved minimally, but Kisame was no common rogue. He swung the bandaged weapon towards us with a cackle and mouthful of fangs. '_We are walking dead.'_

"Asako-san!" Tamurai's hiss snapped me free of thoughts. "A mist!"

"H-hai!" I took a cautious step from the fir onto the ocean of spraying water and signed tiger. A burst of steam issued from where my soles touched, blowing downwind towards Kisame. The wind was in our favor but for how long I was unsure. Even as I noticed our small luck, the wind became less and the fog more.

"Fire attributed in Kirigakure?" Kisame's cackle cut forth even as he disappeared in the steam. "You _are_ an unlucky one." My blood ran cold to where his thoughts lead. Kisame, now covered in the dense fog, was blinded just as we were to him. This was our chance, we could escape.

I shot a look at Commander Tamurai. Kisame too was a ninja of mist. This fog was part of his blood, even if he had forgone its roots, it would not hold him from decimating our cell. He had been born in it, shaped by it, he would know our movements just as well as his own. I willed Tamurai to caution this.

"_Hold your steam steady,"_ instructed Tamurai quietly. He only appeared as a shadow in the mist, but his mind was stone, "_Roka and I will attack."_

"_We shouldn't - - we should retreat."_ Roka-senpai turned towards me and his masked face quieted me right then and there, and Tamurai was no different. My heart thumped less-so and I turned back downwind. So this was it. Suicide by missing-nin. "_Hai."_

At my breathless confirmation they flickered; I thickened the fog. Sweat stuck my long burgundy hair to the back of my neck, but whether the sweat was from the heat of the steam or fear I was unsure. I was alone now, and all it would take was Kisame to sneak behind me and end my short life as an oi-nin.

There was a sudden twang of steel meeting steel, a distant yell. Waves lapped at my feet before dissipating into an eerie calm. I swallowed thickly, the silence unbearably stifling, just like the steam billowing from my feet.

Something bumped the sole of my boot.

I shouldn't have looked down. A face surfaced in the water, agony on its features. Grey hair and furious slate eyes. Roka.

I didn't have time to react as a crushing grey hand clamped around my ankle and plunged me under. The bone cracked. Whether it were Roka, the shock of cold water, or the pain, I'd opened my mouth in a scream, and I watched what air I'd swallowed escape my lungs through the slits in my mask, silently. My mistake reminded me of training I'd gone through long ago as a Genin, in a different time, but still I tried to breathe in my fear and confusion and I choked. The thick water tasted unnatural and the grasping hand which dragged me down further and further into the water painful.

'_My chakra…' _I felt so tired, '_where has it all gone?'_ The last of my air broke against the surface, and the faint light of the outside.

Multiple explosions ripped the grasp from my ankle, and the bubble of force rode with me to the top. Arms wound about my waist, hoisting me up, into the air. I'd never tasted air so sweet, nor felt air so cold.

"Are you alright?" Tamurai questioned as my body forcibly voided the water from my lungs. I ripped my mask to the top of my head breaking any and all codes attached to disclosure of identity, but it was either that or drown inside the mask. The water poured back into the deep lake.

"H-hai!" I finally managed, coughing still. Tears pricked my eyes, my teeth chattered as a frigid gust of wind ripped through my wet clothes. "R-Roka was-"

He pushed the mask back down into proper position. "I know; he callously rushed-"

Behind him rose a massive shape, the sword Samehada raised above its head. Tamurai grasped me and yanked me back just as the sword smashed down into the water, splashing a ploom high into the air where we had been moments before.

Kisame stood straight and lifted the great sword one-handed over his shoulder with a slight clack. His face twisted into a wry look, "Kirigakure must not have the resources to put together suitable hunt units anymore, if this is what they send after me, ka?" My eyes bored into his. His eyes were a cruel amusement, round and nearly as grey as his skin, predatory. He was single-minded, and I had been right in my assumptions that we were no match for his raw blood lust. "How is Ao-_sensei_ these days? Kekeke."

I breathed deep, and clutched at Tamurai's shoulder for support, my right leg refused to bear my weight. We needed the distance to heal.

Slowly, Kisame raised Samehada and pointed it at us, one-handed. My brain would not comprehend his raw strength. His words were not rushed, said with full intent. "I will enjoy shredding you."

"-Kisame-san," a calm voice stated, close to my ear. It was not Tamurai. A moment later, I felt a kunai press into my side.

I was not out long.

My eyes cracked open to slightly darker skies. Even the stars were different from Kirigakure, too sharp, too distant. The dome of water had subsided.

Why had it come to this? My eyes were heavy, my limbs pinned to the wet cold ground by something I could not raise my head to see. I couldn't move. Each pained breath alerted me more and more to a warm wetness sticking my clothes to my side. My trembling fingers groped against my ribcage, just beneath my vest, only to come back unnaturally dark - - blood, my blood.

"Ah, Itachi-san, she's still alive." The voice was carefully neutral.

Blurred figures stood over me. They filled the slits of my mask like gargantuan statues outlined by the dusk sky, but the muted shock of this discovery did not hit me fully. My overwhelmed senses couldn't take much more besides the horrible pain of my life draining from my body, smearing my reaction. Just… _oh… I'm not alone._ It was as if they had just noticed me and decided to see what I would do with my last moments, laying there in the cold mud. Each gust of wind over them turning gears in their minds. Their cloaks fluttered with my gasping mouthfuls of breath. I felt tears prickling at my eyes. '_Kunoichi don't cry,' _but the tears flowed all the harder.

The shorter of the two crouched, and reached out. Momentarily all was dark, and then I felt the cold air on my face as they revealed my identity, but then again, this was all I had asked for, hadn't I?

Sharingan eyes traced my blue orbs and ashen skin. I recognized him from the oi-nin books and the wanted charts. I tried to say his name, but my throat couldn't accompany with sound. I knew he had wounded me.

"She knows who you are, Itachi-san," Hoshigaki sounded humored. "Perhaps we can whittle more from her than from her captain? We know Kirigakure has… _it_." Samehada plunged into the ground besides my head to follow point though. "Eh, Oi-nin-chan?"

The cold air helped my senses and cleared my head as I scowled as darkly at that monster as I could muster. Those leering eyes met mine. I'd heard of the mission in which Hoshigaki Kisame had killed the Cipher Unit, and, in truth, I didn't know what to make of that. It had never been my place to think on such things. Now he looked to take information from me, perhaps in much the way he'd tried to prevent during times of the Bloody Mist. I knew what I must do, had readied for the occasion my entire short life as an oi-nin.

"It's in your best interest to answer truthfully," Itachi's voice was stoic. I could see all the threats that laid behind his soft words. "… It will be easier on everybody." Words Tamurai had said just before engaging Kisame. Tears that had filled my eyes finally spilt over.

"Ho," Kisame grinned, "she didn't like that."

I didn't know what information they intended to get out of me. But I wasn't about to give it freely. Nay, I wouldn't give any at all. There was no hiding the determination in my expression to which Kisame's brow darkened suspiciously. I thought perhaps Kisame had once felt the way I felt at this moment about Kirigakure, it only happened that I would betray no comrades and later on no village.

I'd rather die.

I bit down hard on the false tooth imbedded in my jaw just as Kisame's large hand clamped around my face, but he was too late, and I felt for one moment great peace as I breathed deep the deadly fumes released by the broken seal, and went willingly into that darkness within. I'd done my job. They could get no information from me. Ever.

"_Asako-chan,_" _my father waved me over. My short baby legs carried me to him across the beach sand, wild laughs escaped my child lips. "Asako-chan!" Hands picked me up, spun me high, high up. I could smell the salt wind from the ocean and the warmth of the sun. "I'm so proud… already walking!" _

The cold air washed over me in gusts and I could feel goose bumps rise along my skin. My body hurt, and my body shivered, but beneath me it was warm. I curled into that warmth, fed off it, tightened my arms around it. It shifted me, hard and solid under my hands. A sound - tak, tak, tak - footsteps through snow. My eyes fluttered once, twice. Someone carried me, and to where I knew not. My drowsy gaze saw black clothes and discolored skin, the snowy ground far below. My face settled back, curling into the warmth of his neck. I was so cold, but in his scent I found comfort. Salt and ocean. '_He smells like home…'_

"_Asako-chan," my father called again, his tone was serious. I was a little older. He beckoned with his gloved hand, a metal brace against his forearm covered in syringes. "Tell me, what do you know of poisons?"_

I awoke with a start, sitting up too fast for my beaten body. A sharp pain stabbed my side and I gasped loudly clutching at the wet tender wound. Cold air beat my back and tried to take the dark blanket covering me away. My breaths came in small sharp gasps, and as I took my hand away from my side I saw fingers red with blood.

Movement flickered to the side of my vision, and I jerked towards it with a speed that half-surprised me, but did little for my wound. A man looked down at me, but I could only see the whites of his eyes.

I rasped, lacking moisture to speak, "help."

"Stay still," his grating voice ordered, and inside it I heard a threat. His hands jerked me forwards and pulled my too-large shirt up without a flinch of modesty before grasping the stained bandages, ripping them with one easy tug. I flinched, tensed under the calloused fingers that scraped and prodded around the wound. "You reopened it." I could hear the frown in his voice although I could not see it. "Itachi-san won't be happy."

"I-Itachi-san?"

I received a silence I couldn't discern the meaning of. Instead of answering my half-conceived question, the man rummaged through a bag next to my makeshift bed, producing fresh bandages. I turned abet more slowly this time, holding the shirt up so that the man could rewrap my wound. His heavy breath ruffled my hair, and his large warm hands made me shiver each time they brushed against my sides, making me impossibly aware of how improper this all was. I didn't know him yet was nearly naked. Did that even count though? A stinging hiss cut between my teeth as he tied the bandage tight to keep pressure on the wound.

"Thank you." I managed.

He made a sound I didn't like, something that made me feel it was not what he wanted to do and that my thanks was not welcome. He poked at the orange coals of a dead fire with a stick until it flared back into life and I saw my savior. I gasped, but covered my mouth too late. He heard and looked back at me with bulging yellow eyes and two rows of flashing razor fangs.

"Cat got your _tongue_, gaki?" his teeth pulled back in a sadistic leer.

For a moment I couldn't answer, scared near witless. His torso bulged thick muscle and sinew covered in scars. He wore a black tank and pants, striped arm warmers covering fist to elbow and ankle to knee. He could have snapped me like a twig if he so chose.

"Who are you?" I managed, though weakly.

"Hoshigaki, Kisame," he sounded as if it should mean something to me, something within the fright he seemed to relish seeing on my face at his bizarre appearance. While having the figurative markings of a shark, his ironic name drew nothing forefront. As if realizing this the leer dipped downwards. "And who are _you_?"

I opened my mouth to respond but stopped short. He watched me silently as I mouthed like a fish in air.

_Who _was I?

* * *

Hehehe. I'm horrible. Reviews and comments and suggestions and critiques all wanted! Thank you very much for reading! Hopefully I get the next chapter up soon! This is a rework of an older story by the same name. Hope you enjoyed it.


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